Back to Basics
by Brad Quarry
Summary: Based on NARC 2005. Forzenski and Hill are together again, battling a new formula of Liquid Soul. When an assault goes awry, they must take responsibility and try to make amends. Rated T for language recommended for mature teens.
1. Chapter 1

BACK TO BASICS

by

Brad Quarry

_Chapter One_

Jack Forzenski woke with a start, the pounding in his head forcing him back onto the mattress. His old partner, Marcus Hill, sat facing him in a chair. Jack's Airstream trailer rocked with his flop to the mattress, but he lay still with a forearm over his eyes.

"What time is it?" Jack asked.

"Quarter to three, you lazy ass punk. Get your ass outta bed." Marcus stood and threw a towel on Jack. "And for God's sake, take a shower. You smell like pig shit."

It had been a year since Jack and Marcus had faced down Mr. Big, a withered man still pushing from his bunkers. The market for Liquid Soul had dropped to near extinction after his demise, but a new formulation of the drug had resurfaced on the west coast. Jack and Marcus, under the auspices of the DEA, had been tracking the sale and distribution of the new formula for two weeks. The effects, other than perceived invincibility, were moving toward psychotic ideations and hallucinations, due to the addition of a pure form of adrenachrome.

Jack sat up again and rubbed his temples. He'd been surprised at the DEA's willingness to hire him as an agent, and even more surprised that his supervisor at the Rockland Police Department, Capt. Joe Kowalski, had approved of the move. The RPD had been stretched thin, and Jack thought that the department would need him. But Kowalski, who was also his uncle, thought that Jack's services would be more valuable to the DEA. At least Jack had gotten a nicer place out of the deal.

"Get a move on, Jack," Marcus called from the kitchen.

"All right, all right!" Jack hauled himself up. "Why don't you make yourself useful and get …"

"… the coffee ready. Jesus Jack, you really think I'd forget your lifeblood?"

"Ass."

Jack emerged from the small bathroom to the smell of slightly burned coffee. He sat down and poured a cup of the sludge Marcus had made, then paused to light a cigarette and run his hand through his wet black hair. His bright Acapulco shirt nearly blinded Marcus as he sat on the other side of the table.

"So," Jack said, taking his first sip of the motor oil in his cup, "what's on the agenda today?"

"Kowalski passed on a tip from a mid-range pusher that a shipment of the new Liquid Soul is due in Pillar Point Harbor late tonight. It's being run up from Manzanillo, Mexico by Guillermo Villegos on a cigarette boat."

"We gotta waste our time on Villegos? On a shipment that small?"

"Rumor has it that Villegos is running the shipment up Highway 101 and into Seattle, where he's gonna pass it off to Andre Pedersen."

"Aw, shit. The lab guy?"

"One and the same. Apparently Pedersen's meth cooking days are over."

"Yeah, but the equipment's nearly the same, and since there's no smell with Liquid Soul …"

"Pedersen's pretty much able to do whatever the hell he wants, and keep his labs mobile. Yeah."

Jack took another sip of his coffee and extinguished his cigarette. He stood up, his knees knocking the edge of the table.

"I gotta get a bigger place."

"Hey, you nab the right guys on this one, you might get a condo."

"Right. Fuck it. Let's roll."


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

Jack and Marcus walked into the briefing room together, taking seats near the front. Special Agent in Charge Allison Peña stood at the podium, awaiting their appearance.

"Nice of you two to show up," Peña said. "The other agents have been here for fifteen minutes."

"Yeah, sorry Allison," Jack said. "I just couldn't get enough of you in the dream I had …" The other agents in the room chuckled. Although Peña was a beautiful woman, with long black hair, dazzling brown eyes, and legs that looked as though sculpted by a Renaissance artist, she had a reputation as a cold, hard ballbreaker.

"That's enough, Forzenski. I'm sure you realize that I'll want to speak with you after the briefing?"

"I was counting on it." Peña scowled as Marcus and Jack settled in. "All right, here's the breakdown of the raid tonight. Villegos reportedly has, at most, three other men on the boat, a measure to reduce weight and move more product. We'll lead two teams of five on the raid, to better our chances of success. Garcia, you'll lead Alpha, commanding Frakes, June, Nanez, and Johnson. Hill, you'll lead Charlie, commanding Forzenski, Kilmeade, Drago, and Gillespie.

"Group Charlie will lead the land-based assault, coming in on Dock C, where Villegos' man in San Francisco, Tyson Chillemi, has rented slip J-141 at the Pillar Point Harbor. Drago will be the sniper, mounting on this small rise southeast of the docks. Group Alpha will lead the water-based assault with two Zodiacs, fanning out to the side and just behind Villegos' boat, hopefully barring him from doing anything totally stupid. Hill, I want group Charlie to apprehend the men on this boat, so do everything in your power to take them all alive. If that's not to be the case, please take enough precaution not to strike Villegos. We need to know who his supplier is, so that we can start going to the top.

"Gentlemen, this is of the utmost importance. Do not, I repeat, do _not_ fuck this up, or you'll have me to deal with in the morning."

"Excuse me, Allison?" Jack said, raising his hand.

"What is it?"

"Do you know, by chance, if Villegos has a condo?" The agents in the room did their best to hide their snickers, but they could barely control themselves.

"That is all, agents. Forzenski, Hill, my office. _Now_."

"Aw, Allison, do I gotta?" Marcus protested. "I'm not responsible for the shit that comes outta his mouth."

"_NOW!_" Peña stormed away from the podium and toward her office. Marcus stood and kicked Jack in the leg.

"Now see the shit you got me into?"

"Hey, you were the one that said there'd be a condo."

-----

"Forzenski, you ever pull that shit in front of the other agents again, I'll be sure to have you stationed in Butt Rape, Lousiana, got it?"

"Gotcha, Allison."

"Since I've paired you two on this, I expect there will be no reason to worry about the arrests, right?"

"'Course not, Peña," Marcus said. "But we need to have Garcia's team rockin' it on the water. You sure he's ready to lead?"

"Garcia's had two assaults run perfectly under his command, so I'm sure there won't be a problem. You two, on the other hand, have a history of playing it by ear after screwing up reasonably east assignments. That's why you're going to run the land-based. There's less of a chance of it happening again. But mind you, if something should go wrong, you will both officially be on my shit-list."

"Allison," Jack interrupted, "if you're so sure we'll fuck up, why give us the lead on this one?" Jack's temper was rising, and Marcus was waiting for the mercury to burst.

"Because the office is too thin to do much about it at the moment. Hell, half the guys in this jurisdiction are still trying to clean up the mess Charlie Toruko made in San Francisco."

Charlie Toruko, a high level thug running out of Tokyo, had a tanker full of drugs, bootlegged sake, and illegal immigrants sidle into San Francisco Bay, only to be surprised by a dozen DEA and Coast Guard watercraft. The local DEA office was still busy logging all of the contents of the tanker a full three days later.

"Fine," Jack said. "I just hope you didn't throw us together as a 'shit-list squad.'"

"You have my personal assurance that your scenario is not the case. However, don't make it so. Dismissed."

Jack rose from his chair first, and hustled out of the office as fast as he could. Marcus strode up behind him in the hallway.

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to play by the rules once in a while," Marcus said.

"That chick really chaps my ass," Jack said, articulating carefully through a taught jaw. "Ever since we were assigned out here, she's been all over us like napalm on rocks."

"Just chill out, bro. We got a long night ahead of us."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

Marcus and Jack sat quietly in the back of the raid van, slipping into their body armor and snugging it to their torsos. Jack checked the magazine in his pistol. Satisfied with the seating of the ammo, he slid it into the grip and locked a round in the chamber. Marcus speed-loaded his .357 revolver, slipping it into his shoulder holster. Jack cracked a smile as he checked the action of the M4 assault rifle he'd chosen.

"What?" Marcus asked, also checking his M4.

"Still carryin' that ugly revolver," Jack stated. "You may as well be retired already."

"As I remember, this mag has saved your ass more times than I can count, asshole."

"Well, that statement's certainly up for debate." Jack tapped the back of the M4's magazine to seat the ammo and knock out any dirt, then rammed it into the receiver. He racked the bolt, locking a round in the chamber.

"Look, pal, let's keep our heads straight," Marcus said. "No fuckin' around on this one. We gotta be sharp."

"Yeah, yeah."

They stood carefully and exited the rear of the van, their body armor's "DEA" lettering glittering in the work lamps.

"Troops! Group up!" Both group Alpha and group Charlie assembled at the rear of the van, eagerly awaiting the word _go_.

"I don't have to tell you how important this mission is, guys," Marcus said. "I want everything to go without a hitch, got it? You all know your jobs. Now let's do 'em." With that, Alpha loaded themselves into the Zodiacs, and Charlie took their strategic positions, ready to run down the short Dock C for their apprehension. Marcus and Jack crouched at the entrance to the dock at the pier as Gillespie killed the work lamps, throwing the dock into total darkness. Gillespie and Kilmeade joined Jack and Marcus at their vantage point, weapons held ready, their breath the only sound audible over the waves crashing on the jetty.

Alpha had positioned themselves in the harbor to allow them to execute a pincer maneuver to the boat's rear once it passed a predetermined line. The Zodiacs' engines idled quietly in the darker waters of the harbor, ready to strike when called.

"Alpha One, ready, over," intoned Nanez.

"Alpha Two, ready," said Garcia. "We're set for go, over."

"Copy, Alphas," Marcus said. "On your mark, over."

The anticipation was starting to get to both groups after a few minutes. The boat was lagging behind its schedule, and Jack was very aware that his knees were getting stiff in the crouched position.

"Where the hell are they?" Jack whispered to himself.

The noise of a twin-screw V8 engine could now be heard in the air, and the members of Charlie tensed.

"Target, five hundred yards and closing," Garcia said. "Be ready, over."

"Drago, you see anything on that boat, over?" Marcus looked up toward where Drago was positioned.

"Negative. It's too dark on deck, over."

"Keep your eyes peeled."

The boat was approaching slower than they had anticipated. Jack sat up on his haunches a little more, trying to relieve the stress on his knees.

"One hundred yards and closing, over," Garcia said. Jack and Marcus pivoted to face the entrance to the dock, their M4s at the ready. Kilmeade and Gillespie lined up behind them.

_Goddammit, this is killing me_, Jack thought, his impetuous nature taking over. The nose of the boat dinged lightly against the dock, and pulled slowly into slip J-141.

"Execute!" Garcia commanded. The roar of the Zodiacs' engines echoed through the harbor as they raced to their positions. Jack sprung up first and began jogging down the dock. Marcus was right behind him, with Kilmeade and Gillespie hot on their heels. A man on deck opened fire, forcing the members of group Charlie to dodge behind whichever piling was closest, the chatter of an AK-47 snapping crisply in the night air. Slugs from the rifle _pinged_ off of the rusty metal pilings, sounding like an alarm.

Drago caught the silhouette of a man's head in his scope, then watched as the newly-reloaded AK-47 lit up his face like a strobe light. Drago took in a deep breath, steadied his left forearm … began putting pressure on the trigger … a little more … The rifle leapt and coughed at the same time, the flash suppressor silencing the bullet as much as it could. The AK-47 rattled a couple more rounds wildly as the triggerman's finger tensed in a death grip, leaving the weapon empty.

The Zodiacs moved in closer, and group Charlie rushed the boat, boarding it. They swept down into the forequarters, looking for anyone they could find. There was nothing there.

"Kilmeade, Gillespie, stay here. Jack, you come with me." Marcus and Jack moved aft, keeping their M4s trained ahead of them. At the stern, Jack dropped to a knee and aimed the muzzle of his M4 at the engine hatch, signaling to Marcus to open it. Marcus slung his rifle on his shoulder and gripped his revolver. He kept the muzzle pointed down toward the hatch as he reached for the hatch handle. Marcus swung it up, and Jack dove the business end of the M4 into the dark, fuel-laden engine compartment. Empty.

"Where the fuck are these guys?"

"Hill, I think I've found some …"

A blinding flash occurred, and Jack was thrown into the air. The last thing he remembered was the cold grasp of the ocean water as the harbor embraced him.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

"What the hell happened?" Peña shouted. "Why did you two feel the need to blow up every piece of evidence that could have helped us?"

Jack's head was screaming, and Marcus' head wasn't faring well, either. The ice pack Jack held to his temple was easing the swelling, but not removing the incessant throbbing. Marcus' left eye was swollen shut, black and purple bruising clearly visible under the gauze that resided over his stitches.

"Look, Peña," Jack started, "like I told you when I woke up, there was a bomb on the boat, okay? It was no one's fault. _We_ didn't do shit. It was that asshole Villegos."

"The problem is, the brass needs to pin the blame on someone, and that someone just happens to be you two, who were the only members of Charlie, save for Drago, that survived the explosion. No one else saw what happened, so it's falling on your shoulders."

"That's _bullshit_, Peña, and you know it!" Marcus exclaimed, leaping out of the chair. Jack's head pounded even more at Marcus' outburst, and he clenched his eyelids shut to try to drown out the light. "If Gillespie had stuck to protocol, we wouldn't be here, trying to save _your_ ass from a demotion."

"Watch it, Hill," Peña said coldly.

"_Watch _my ass go out the door." Marcus strode to the door and slammed it on the way out. Peña was ready to implode when Jack, with his eyes still shut tight, spoke.

"Allison, I'll take the blame."

"The hell you will. Marcus was the team leader."

"Yeah, but the brass will expect this kind of shit from me. Keep Marcus' record clear. I can afford a suspension, anyway. My head's killing me."

"Fine. Here's what I'll do. I'll recommend to the Chief of Operations that you receive a one-week suspension with pay. In the meantime, just sit in that shithole trailer of yours until you hear from us."

"What about Marcus?"

"He'll remain on the case. If he needs you for anything, I'll revoke the suspension, citing lack of adequate manpower. Sound all right to you?"

"Sure. Why are you being so nice about this?"

"Because you already have a head injury."

-----

Jack's trailer swayed, signaling Marcus' arrival. The door swung open, Marcus entering with two cups of coffee and a small bag of doughnuts. Jack sat up, setting his melted ice pack on the counter next to his bed. The goose egg was dying down, but the burn marks on his face were still healing. The doctors said he was lucky not to have had facial lacerations, but that his being topside was probably the reason for it.

"Whatever," he'd said. "As long as it doesn't get in the way of my good looks." The doctors had frowned and put him on the outpatient list immediately.

"Man, why'd you take the fall for this shit?" Marcus asked, setting down a cup of coffee and tossing Jack a glazed.

"They're used to it by now," Jack said. "Besides, you tarnished your badge enough by bringing me on."

"Yeah, guess I did." Marcus took a bite of his grape jelly-filled, and swallowed it with a swig of his mocha. "So how do you think that shit went down?"

"Far as I can tell, the DEA was obviously given a bad lead," Jack said, lighting up a cigarette. "Did you get the informant's name out of Peña?"

"Yeah. You ain't gonna believe this shit. Said her name was Daniels." Jack coughed.

"As in _Agent_ Daniels?"

"One and the same."

Agent Daniels, as they'd known her, was the lead agent for Narcotics Assessment Reconnaissance and Control, or NARC. It had turned up in their investigation that Agent Daniels was in fact _The Enforcer_, the main distributor of Liquid Soul.

_In Progress …_


End file.
